


On the Pitfalls of Drinking Too Much

by rubyofkukundu



Category: Original Work
Genre: Hangover, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-31
Updated: 2010-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyofkukundu/pseuds/rubyofkukundu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hangover isn't the only thing that John wakes up to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Pitfalls of Drinking Too Much

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 32 minutes for the prompt: Practical Jokes.
> 
> Originally posted here: <http://petitte-soeur.livejournal.com/97933.html>

John wakes up to a nagging pain behind his eyeballs and a rather disconcerting blank in his memory where the previous evening should have been. He groans, half in self-pity, half because it eases the pain for a blissful second, and he focuses on getting his thoughts in order.  
  
Right. So, he drunk a little too much last night. Nice going dumb-ass.  
  
But then John feels someone stir in the bed behind him and he realises, with a pleasant surprise, that _he is not alone_.  
  
Did he really manage to pull someone at that bar? Good show! That's not par for the course for him at all. Hopefully she's attractive.  
  
A pair of arms wrap themselves around John's waist from behind, and he jumps as he feels someone curl up against his back. His brain starts running uncomfortably fast for this time in the morning, and he hardly even knows why until he looks down to see that this girl, whoever she is, has rather hairy arms and worryingly large hands.  
  
Surely it can't be...  
  
"Good morning," murmurs a very pleased and a _very male_ voice in John's ear. "Sleep well?"  
  
John yelps and tries to scrabble out of the bed, but those arms hold him fast. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck._ Just how drunk was he last night? This isn't right. There's a guy in his bed! This isn't right _at all._  
  
"What's wrong?" The voice against John's ear sounds concerned. "You're not getting cold feet are you? You told me last night that this was what you really wanted!"  
  
John opens his mouth to try to reply, or to deny all knowledge of everything, or even to ask 'Jesus, fuck, oh God, what did I do?' but all that comes out is a pathetic sort of gargle.  
  
There's an intake of breath, which John can feel against the back of his neck, _fuck it, fuck_ , and then a chuckle. The arms around his waist tighten and fingers stroke his hip in a very disturbing way. "Don't tell me," says the mystery guy, sounding both surprised and amused, "that you don't remember what we did?"  
  
 _I don't even remember meeting you!_ thinks John, but what he says is, "Oh God."  
  
Mystery guy chuckles again then places a, _oh Jesus, shitting fuck fuck fuck_ , kiss to John's shoulder. "If you don't remember," purrs the guy, voice deep and breathy, "we'll just have to _do it again_."  
  
John nearly has a heart-attack right there on the spot, and he actually does give out a full-on scream when his bedroom door opens and his flatmate, Rob, steps in.  
  
"Christ," says Rob, and John thinks that he may just die of embarrassment. His face feels like it's bright red for a start.  
  
But Rob doesn't say anything to John, instead he turns and says, "Jesus, Dave, what are you doing? Get out of John's bed."  
  
The arms that were holding John tight slide away, much to John's relief, and then John hears the voice behind him say, petulantly, "I was only having a bit of fun!"  
  
Rob turns to John, "I apologise for my brother, he's an arse."  
  
"What?" John's brain is still running too slowly to keep up. He turns around to finally get a look at the mystery man as said mystery man, or rather, Rob's brother Dave, hops out of bed and does a gleeful little dance around the room (and there aren't words enough to describe how relieved John is to see that Dave has been wearing underpants this whole time).  
  
"Your face!" crows Dave. "Oh man, it was priceless!"  
  
"Wait," says John, looking from Rob to Dave, still confused, "you mean we didn't...? We didn't sleep together?"  
  
Dave bursts into peals of laughter.  
  
That'll be a no then.  
  
John sags back into the pillows. He wonders if he's ever going to live this down. Possibly not, but right now he's got more pressing things to do. Like wallow in his goddamn hangover. He gives Dave a hearty glare, and gives Rob one too, for good measure, "Get out. Both of you. Now."  
  
They do as they're told, and as John burrows under the bedcovers, he can hear Dave laughing all the way down the corridor. _Balls_. So John buries his face in his pillow and tries not to listen. Or to dwell on how he can still feel the warmth of Dave's arms lingering around his waist.


End file.
